The Royal Rebirth
by Pinewater
Summary: When Harry Potter is killed by Voldemort in the graveyard of Little Hangleton on the night of the third task upon trying to escape. His soul is transported across the multiverse and implanted into the womb of one Lyanna Stark as she becomes pregnant and eventually giving birth to Jon Snow and Harrold Snow his twin brother.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Resurrection

 **Little Hangleton Graveyard, Britain - 1995**

"Kill the spare" he somehow heard through the immense pain that he was currently enduring.

" _Avada Kedavra!_ " a voice that he recognized cried out as a jet of sickly green energy sprang from the wand that the unknown yet familiar figure was holding as the oozing green energy flew towards the person whom his master had considered useless.

The bolt of energy struck Cedric Digory a 7th year Hufflepuff of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry that Harry had considered a friend.

"NO! CEDRIC!" Harry cried out, he knew what that was, he knew the words and he knew what it could do, after all how could he of all people not know what it would do, given that that spell was the spell that had ruined his life oh so long ago, back when Voldemort was still in power.

The unknown figure came closer and through his pain Harry could recognize the face, it was Peter Pettigrew otherwise known as Wormtail, the person who had betrayed his parents and lead Voldemort to their house on that fateful night of October 31st 1981 and it was he who had framed Harry's Godfather Sirius Black and tricked the Aurors into believing that Sirius was the true betrayer, resulting in the next twelve years that Sirius would have to spend locked up in Azkaban for this traitors crimes.

Wormtail stepped forward and before Harry could truly do anything Wormtail pointed a wand that Harry had only seen in his dreams, or perhaps nightmares were a better word to describe his memories of that night, Wormtail lifted Harry up and manipulated the stone statue of an Angel reaper behind him to allow it to entrap Harry and ensure that he could not escape, after all, Harry Potter was vital to their plans.

"Do it! Now." the figure that Harry realized was a baby Voldemort said to Wormtail, who in turn followed his Master's order and dropped the baby Voldemort within the cauldron that had blazed to life.

"Bone of the father, Unwillingly given" the cold whimpering voice of Wormtail called out to the nearly empty graveyard.

"Flesh of the servant, Willingly sacrificed"

Wormtail sniveled as he took the large knife that he held within his left hand and held it high above his right, even from where he was locked within the stone angels grip Harry could see that Wormtail's hand shook as he brought the knife closer and closer to his own hand. For but a moment Harry hope that the man known as Peter Pettigrew did not have the courage to sacrifice his own hand. However that hope was soon extinguished as Wormtail brought the knife down upon his hand with a final sob and severed his own flesh, allowing it to drop into the same cauldron that he had with the bone and the small child version of Voldemort.

"Blood of the enemy, Forcibly taken" Wormtail managed to get out through his gritted teeth, trying to survive past the immense pain that he must be feeling.

Having managed to get over the pain of losing a hand Wormtail advanced upon the Statue that Harry was held in as he held the knife and cut apart Harry's sleeve and then cut deep into Harry's arm gathering up a large amount of Harry's blood upon the blade of the knife and then depositing it into the cauldron.

"The Dark Lord shall rise again."

Harry watches on in pain and horror at seeing the cauldron burst into flames, at first he thought, no, he hoped that something had gone terribly wrong with Voldemort's current plan but it seemed that his hope was in vain as after a few seconds the burning cauldron transformed into something that looked somewhat Human, Harry watched on in abject horror as the human like thing started to become more and more complete, every second the figure looked more and more like the Voldemort that he had seen in his first year. Until finally it was complete and there before Harry's own eyes was a complete form of Voldemort clad in dark robes. Sadly it seemed that in this case Wormtail was right, the Dark Lord had truly risen once more.

Wormtail slowly approached his master, his eyes filled with fear as Voldemort approached and ordered Wormtail to give him his wand.

"Hold out your arm" he spoke simply in a voice that was quite like a whisper and yet at the same time far more sinister.

"Master ... Thank you, Master" Wormtail managed to sob out.

"The other arm Wormtail" Voldemort replied to his servants whimpering.

Voldemort grasped Wormtails outstretched arm as he drew out his wand and used his own magic for the first time in thirteen years and pointed it at the Dark mark on Wormtail's arm, Voldemort and Wormtail watched on as the mark on his left arm became less and less faded, allowing his servant all around to know that he had returned. Wormtail sobs became louder as it was clear that his Master did not care that he had given up his own arm for him to return as well as the added pain of being the conduit through which he summoned his Inner Circle.

The Dark Mark appeared the sky and the remaining free Death Eaters returned to their only master via apparation desperate to prove themselves loyal to their cause after they had managed to escape from the threat of being imprisoned in Azkaban by denouncing their master. They knew that he would not be happy, if they who had denounced him did not appear before him begging for mercy and forgiveness, they knew that they would never be safe, not while He still lived.

"Welcome my friends" Voldemort said with wide arms, greeting his disloyal servants, those who had denounced him and his cause, "Thirteen years its been and yet here you stand before as though it were only yesterday."

Voldemort whispered to his followers, "I confess myself, disappointed, not one of you tried to find me."

"Crabbe."

"Macnair."

"Goyle."

He yelled in anger as he removed each of their masks causing them great pain, allowing them know how truly displeased he was because of what they had done.

"Not even you, Lucius" ripping off the mask of the person who before his fall was one of his most loyal servants.

"My lord, had I detected any sign or whisper of your whereabouts" Lucius tried to appease his master.

"There were signs my slippery friend and more than whispers"

"I returned" Wormtail said softly trying to calm down the whimper in his voice as he spoke to one of the most powerful wizards in history.

Voldemort stalked up to Wormtail crying out in anger, "Out of fear, not loyalty, still you have proved yourself useful these past few months Wormtail", Voldemort waved his wand over the stump of the hand that Wormtail had sacrificed in order to bring back his Master and a silvery substance attached itself to the stump and moved upwards as it formed itself into a silver hand that Wormtail was able to move as if it was his own.

"Thank you, Master, thank you!"

Voldemort moved over to the body that lay on the ground, the body belonged to the boy that he had ordered Wormtail to get rid of, "Oh tsk tsk, such a handsome boy"

"Don't touch him!" shouted a voice, as Voldemort turned to face the voice he found himself almost surprised, so lost in his excitement and joy at once again being returned to this world and having his followers surrounding him, disloyal though they were, he had completely forgotten about the key reason he was brought back in the first place, "Harry, oh, I had almost forgotten that you were here, standing on the bones of my father I would introduce you but word has it you're almost as famous as me these days"

"The Boy Who Lived, How lies have feed your legend Harry, shall I reveal what really happened thirteen years ago? How I truly lost my powers" Voldemort replied, "It was love, you see, when dear sweet Lilly Potter gave her life for her only son she provided the only protection, it was old magic, something I should have foreseen."

"But no matter, no matter, things have changed I can touch you ... now."

Voldemort seemed to almost float directly the bound form of Harry Potter, as he slowly lifted his hand and pressed hard against the infamous scar of Harry Potter, causing Harry to cry out in pain, Voldemort groaned with pleasure as for the first time in thirteen years Voldemort could truly touch his greatest enemy, finally after so long he could cause Potter the same pain that he himself had endured for thirteen years.

"Astonishing what a few drops of your blood can do eh Harry" as Voldemort's finger left Harry's scar, quite content with the fact that Potter could no longer hurt him in the same way that he did in his first year with Quirrel.

"Pick up your wand Potter" Voldemort told him as he moved his wand to allow the statues scythe to move out of the way, allowing Harry to fall out of the Angels grip.

Voldemort turned around and cried at Harry "I said pick it up, Get up! Get up!"

"You've been taught how to duel I presume" Voldemort said.

Harry of course refused to do so and remained standing as Voldemort got angry and yelled out to Harry, "First, we bow to each other, Come on now Harry the niceties must be observed, Dumbledore wouldn't want you to forget your manners would he."

"I said bow!" Voldemort cried as he pointed his wand at Harry and Harry felt an intense pain deep within his stomach, forcing his body to bend over and submit to the will of that 'creature'.

"That's better" Voldemort said with satisfaction in his voice and joy in his eyes, finally, finally after so long the one person who was truly a threat to his plans would die.

"And now, _Crucio!_ "

Harry's body writhed and fell down to the ground as he felt a pain more intense than anything he had ever felt in his life, to describe it to anyone who had never felt the touch of the Cruciatus curse, much less one cast by Voldemort himself, It felt as if thousands upon thousands of white hot needles were being injected directly into his nerves, the pain was agonizing. The worst thing that anyone in the world could ever feel.

"That a boy Harry, your parents would be proud, especially your filthy muggle mother" Voldemort whispered as he stood over the fallen body of Harry Potter.

" _Expelliarmus!_ " Harry yelled out in anger, not wishing to stand the insult coming from the murderer of his parents.

"I'm going to kill you Harry Potter, after tonight no one will ever again question my powers."

"Get up!" Voldemort reached out his hand and held it above Harry's face, using wandless magic he forced Harry's body up and back onto his feet, As Voldemort turned to face his audience Harry took the opportunity to try and get away from the man who had destroyed his entire life, quickly running and hiding behind a few gravestones.

"Don't you turn your back on me Harry Potter, I want you to look at me when I kill you, I want to see the light leave your eyes" yelled Voldemort in anger as he shot a killing curse towards the retreating back of his enemy his curse landing on one of the many graves and partially destroying it.

Harry closed his eyes, he knew that it was impossible for this to end any other way, as he resolved himself and stood up and started walking towards his most frightening enemy "Have it your way."

" _Expelliarmus_ / _Avada Kedavra_ " They both cried out at the same time, brilliant jets of a magnificent shade of red and a sickly oozing green shot out from the ends of their respective wands, eventually meeting in the middle as one spell fought another their users providing the energy to maintain the spells as well as providing extra power to try and overcome the other.

The green and red light danced this way and that, sometimes the green would seem to win and it come inches from the end of Harry's wand before the red light seemed to become renewed and push further back against the green back into the middle whereupon they would gracefully push each other back and forth until the red gained ground and was almost upon the wand that the green light stemmed from, until Voldemort using his combined magical knowledge as well as his own fury at the fact that this did not seem to be as easy as it should be pushed the red light back to the middle and the dance would start once more.

"Do nothing, he is mine to finish" yelled out Voldemort annoyed that the Death Eaters, his servants seemed antsy almost as if they believed that he would lose, an impossibility of course, Potter was nothing more than a nuisance, so what if it appeared as if he was fighting back, Voldemort knew that eventually Potter would fall, after all how could a 14 year old boy stand against the full might of Lord Voldemort.

And then IT happened, from within the elegant dance of the lights something changed, something happened that neither of the owners of the wands could comprehend for before their eyes at the point where their spells joined and fought furiously a brilliant golden light emerged and created a sort of shield around dueling wizards. Even more surprising was that after the shield had formed around the two out of Voldemort's wand their were flashes of a brilliant blue colored light and as these the seconds ticked past the flashes became more and more human.

Until Harry could recognize the floating body of Cedric Diggory, the boy who Harry had come here with, the boy that Harry had failed and allowed to die, afterwards came a man that Harry had only ever seen in a dream, it was the body of the man who owned the cottage. But it was the next two that truly surprised him, if it were not for the fact that He had seen them in the mirror of Erised then he would have never truly known who they were, it was his mum and dad, Lily and James Potter.

"Harry, when the connection is broken you must get to the portkey we can linger for a moment to give you some time, but only a moment, do you understand?" yelled the spectral apparation of James Potter to his only son.

Harry nods in understanding to the ghostly figure of his father, understanding that this was neither the time nor the place to have such a reunion but also that it would not be possible to have one after this.

"Harry, take my body will you, take my body back to my father" asked the ghost of Cedric as Harry nods knowing that he could do this one last thing for the boy that he had failed.

"Let go, sweetheart your ready, let go, let go." his mother said as Harry readied himself and broke the connection and ran, the ghostly figures seemed to rush at Voldemort and become little more than blue smoke, obscuring Voldemort's vision as Harry pointed at the Triwizard cup and cried out "Accio!".

In another universe Harry Potter would go on to grab the cup and disappear from the graveyard and go on to tell Dumbledore about the danger of a returned Voldemort, the Ministry would completely deny it and run a smear campaign against Harry and Dumbledore until the Minister himself actually saw Voldemort in the Department of Mysteries and announce the return of Voldemort. Harry would go on to learn the dark secret of Voldemort's immortality and witness the death of Dumbledore, He would then go on to hunt down and destroy all of Voldemort's Horcruxs until he himself made the ultimate sacrifice which would eventually lead to Voldemort's defeat at his hands.

But that was another universe, in this one when the ghastly images of those Voldemort had killed tried to rush him, before he could truly understand what was going on he managed to fire off a single wild killing cure. The green jet of magic leapt from its Masters wand, seeming almost eager to take the life of the one it was fired at, the sickly green bolt of energy managed to through some incredible sheer luck hit Harry's chest at the same time that his hand enclosed around the handle of the Triwizard cup activating the portkey and transporting the bodies of both Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter to the middle of the awaiting audience.

In a world so like this one but with one key difference, Harry Potter was alive, Harry would have been taken by Mad Eye Moody and asked questions, Dumbledore and Snape would have gotten suspicious and checked in on the man, only to find that it was in fact not truly Mad Eye Moody but in fact the Death Eater and supposed dead man Bartemius Crouch Junior who had taken the place of Alastor Moody. However that world was not this one and so in the rush and the panic of Cedric Diggory as well as the Boy-Who-Lived deaths, nobody truly noticed Alastor Moody exit the castle and then apparate to inform his Master of the good news.

In this world, with the death of Harry Potter, the Horcrux inside of his head was truly gone and with renewed conviction towards Tom Riddle, Albus Dumbledore moved his old and weary body as he eventually managed to find all of the remaining Horcruxs that Voldemort had hidden and defeated Voldemort when he attempted to take over Hogwarts with an army of dark wizards and creatures. He, however would eventually succumb to the wounds that he had suffered from Voldemort while striking the final blow against his old student.

* * *

 **The Tower of Joy, Dorne - 283 AC**

The scream of a Woman rang out from above resounding off of the stone walls that the Tower was built from as Ned Stark, newly appointed Lord Paramount of the North after the death of his father and brother seemed to almost fly over the steps as he ran towards the screams of the only sister that he had ever known, praying that she would still be find after all that Rhaegar had put her through.

As Ned ran through the corridor of the great tower of Joy and found the door from which the screams came from, he charged at the door and it opened, Ned with sword in hand entered the room in order to ensure his sisters safety.

"Ned?" he heard his sister soft voice, softer than usual as he saw that Lyanna was lying in bed, a bed that was covered in blood, understanding what was happening here and that his sister was in no danger from an enemy that he could fight with a sword he lay it down along her bedside and came up to kneel before her.

"Lyanna" he replied

"Is that you?" she asked between labored breaths "is that really you? and not a dream."

"No, I'm not a dream" Ned replied looking fearfully towards his sister as she was covered in blood "I'm here, right here."

"I want to be brave" Lyanna cried to Ned.

"You are." he replied looking upon his sister gravely.

"I'm not, I don't want to die."

"You're not going to die." Ned said almost shaking in fear at the thought.

"Get her some water! is there a Maester?" he cried to the handmaiden standing next to the bed.

"Listen to me Ned." his sister tried to cry out to him but she did not have the power to do so loudly so she brought his ear down, closer to her so that she did not have to strain her voice and so that he could hear her, "Their names are Aegon Targaryen and Aerion Targaryen."

"If Robert finds out he'll ... " Lyanna could not bring herself to say the rest, but both knew what she implied "You know he will."

"You have to protect them."

"Promise me Ned, Promise me." she said, Happy knowing that there was someone out there who knew and would look after her boys.

Lord Eddard Stark turned his head as he heard the sound of children crying, he saw the handmaiden that was once by the bed bringing in two young healthy boys. Twins. One had black hair with eyes that were a grey shade of blue, "Aegon" he was told by the handmaiden and the other Aerion looked very much like his father though thankfully his hair was black and not the almost white blond that the Targaryens were known for, however it was his eyes that he showed just how much like his father he was for they were a deep shade of purple a trait that ran deep in the blood of old Valyria.

"Promise me Ned, Promise Me." She managed to whisper out as her body grew still and her eyes became less focused and the air in her lungs ran out. Lyanna Stark was dead and the weeping of her brother Ned as well as the wails of the children who were not old enough to truly understand what they had lost became the only sounds that rang out from within the place known as the Tower of Joy.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Thank you my dear friends for all the kind words you have given me this is my first Fanfiction so it makes me happy to hear or well to read your words, Thanks to my love of writing as well as Harry Potter and Game of Thrones and your support heres another chapter, though not as large as the last one, for you all to enjoy.

Just want to say sorry if you find that I use too many Commas , as it helps me with the wording as well as pauses, however I am aware that I do or atleast I believe I do use too many where other things could be used.

* * *

Chapter 2: Harrold Snow

 **Winterfal, The North - 291 AC**

" _Lumos_ " a voice whispered in the dark of the night, the voice was filled with anger and annoyance, it called out once more " _Lumos!_ " but there was no response, not even the faintest flicker of light shone from the hand of a 8 year old boy.

Anyone would recognize this boy if they saw him, how could they not, with that jet black hair and almost glowing purple eyes who in the North would not recognize the boy as Harrold Snow, bastard son of Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell. However if anyone asked what they thought the boy was doing on this cold summer night huddled up in his blankets as he held out his hand and tried so desperately to call upon the ancient force that once was so easy for him, they would not have the faintest idea and if they ever did truly learn of what it was that he was trying to do, they would immediately stop him for fear of what would happen if they did not.

'8 years, it had been 8 years' Harrold thought to himself as he looked around angrily at the stone walls around him and his bed, it had been 8 years since he was had dueled Voldemort, 8 long hard years since the wonderful feeling of Magic surged through his body and it had been 8 years since he had found himself in this odd medieval world once more crying as he lost a mother for the second time.

It had taken a while and the images he had seen as a child were blurry even at the best of times but he had eventually come to realize that the woman who had laid on a bed covered in blood was the mother of this body. Thinking back upon his earliest memory of this world, Harrold Snow or Harry Potter as he was once called, knew that the woman and the man were talking and that the conversation was quite important but both the language and the words themselves were to Harrold's ears inaudible.

Harry had reconciled his death a long time ago, though he did not understand how or when Voldemort had managed to get the final blow on him it had been 8 years since that day and for 8 years Harry had managed to calm himself and force himself to understand that somehow Voldemort had won that duel but he would not win against Dumbledore.

However the thing that made Harry truly mad was the fact that he could no longer use Magic, of course he had never been able to do wandless Magic anyway though he was trying his hardest as he no longer had a wand, he certainly knew that it was possible to do Magic without a wand as he had done it several times when he was a little kid and had seen Dumbledore perform large feats of Magic without one in his hand.

And so there he was, continually trying to feel for that sensation once more, trying to cast even the most simplest of spells that he had learnt in his first year. The spell _Lumos_ was incredibly simple and it simply allowed the user to create a shining white light upon the end of their wand, Harry for this trial was trying to use his finger as the point from which the spell emerged and yet every time he said the incantation perfectly and he flourished his finger around as he would do his wand, nothing happened. Not even the faintest form of light emerged and the feeling of Magic did not come.

Angry at his own failure Harry got got up and out of bed, intending to walk around the castle, though his father said that he should not as it was still dangerous even if the Ironborn threat had ended 2 years ago. Harry put on his shoes, opened his door and walked out onto the cold stone floor of one of the many castle Hallways.

Harry walked all around the stone castle that was Winterfell, he noticed as he was walking about the many guards who were patrolling the hallways ensuring that there were no threats within the halls of Winterfell that would try to hurt their lord and his children. The guards were covered in large ammounts of padding as well as always having their hands on their swords at all times.

Harry himself being the son of Eddard Stark, Bastard he may be, was required to learn the art of swords and by all the Gods was he bad, while he may have had experience with a sword when he stabbed the Basilisk back in the chamber of secrets. He was just flinging it about with no true idea of how to wield it and even when he managed to get a hit on the basilisk by shoving his sword through its brain, he had managed to get stabbed himself with the tooth of the giant serpent, if Fawkes had not been there then Harry would have died at a much earlier point in time.

Harry had only started to learn the art of the sword within this new life of his and already his twin Jon had shown to be a much better swordsman than he probably ever would be, No, Swords were simply not his thing. The many hours of practicing sword strokes and thrusts had all but made Harry forget about the tales of shining white knights upon horses who saved the day. He missed being able to point a stick at something, say a few lines in latin and have something happen, that was why after a hard days work of repeating sword movements under the careful eye of the castles Master at Arms Ser Rodrik Cassel, Harry thought that he would try one more time, at least once more.

Harry was walking around the grounds when he spotted the Godswood, the place where his father and the men of the north would go to be in the prescence of their gods. Harry himself was never a true believer in the gods, being killed and then having your soul transported to another world would do that to you. As Harry walked around the godswood and saw the face carved into the Weirwood he himself knelt down, he had tried everything that he could think of to gain back his magic, perhaps if they truly were real the gods would know the way. And so as he knelt before the Weirwood he prayed, he prayed to the Seven, he prayed to the Old Gods, hell he even prayed to some of the gods that he could remember from back on earth.

And then it came, while in the middle of his prayers though Harry had long forgotten which ones he had prayed to and was currently praying to the ancient greek gods when from above he heard a massive creak and then a loud noise cause Harry to raise his head from the ground and stop his prayers, but as he did so something came flying out of the air and hit him directly on his head. Harry went down to the ground clutching his head in pain thankfully whatever had hit him had not been that heavy and so with some effort he managed to overcome the pain and stand up and move towards the thing that had hit him in the head.

Harry picked up the thing that had fallen onto his head and looked at it, it was a small branch of the Weirwood that grew within the Godswood, the same tree that he had been praying to just a few seconds ago. Harry could hardly believe it and for the first time in his life believed that perhaps there were truly gods in this world, a familiar feeling welled up within his chest as his fire that was the hope of Harry Potter was once more alight as he held the branch above his head and cried " _Lumos_!" and yet the end of the stick remained as it was, not even the tiniest trickle of light came from its tips, Nothing had happened, or at least nothing physical.

Harry however was not put off by this in fact he was actually quite ecstatic about the whole thing as while the branch may not have lit up as it should do for a wand he had felt something stir deep within his chest. His Magic had responded the two items that Harry had needed his entire life in order to cast Magic was there, the Incantation and a focus - the small branch off of a Weirwood tree, a Tree that the Children of the Forest, Magical beings that lived long ago, Worshiped as gods.

Harry knew then what he needed to do, he ran back to his room in the castle continuously clutching onto his stick as if it were his own child and in a way perhaps it was. Harry ran past all the guards ensuring that they did not see him and opened the door and entered his room. He rushed to garb the dagger that stood on the table next to the bed before closing his door and moving a chair over to the fireplace that was still alight.

The dagger that Harry had grabbed was nothing special, it was simple castle forged steel however that would be enough Harry knew that this would be tough work as Weirwood was known as the toughest wood to ever exist in the seven kingdoms and perhaps the toughest wood in the whole of the known world. Harry allowed his dagger to move closer and closer to the wood as he the ran the blades edge against the wood ... and nothing happened it was as if he was trying to cut into steel itself and so Harry did the only thing he could think of he closed his eyes and focused on the feeling that had welled up in his chest when he had shouted out " _Lumos_ " and directed the magic into the branch trying to make it more malleable, more pliable and with his eyes closed and surrounding himself in the Magic that he was forcing down the stick brought the dagger across the branch and allowed it to shave a slice off.

With a greater resolve and a will to succeed Harry did not allow himself to be swept up in this victory instead allowing magic to infuse the Weirwood. As Harry began to slice more and more off of the wooden stick he felt an odd feeling from within him it was this feeling that made Harry realize if this was what it meant when the wand chooses the wizard as while he used his magic to allow him to shape the wood there also seemed to be some sort of feedback from within the wood itself it was not anything sentient, no this was far more primal. The wood seemed to almost be guiding his hands allowing him to shape the wand to the way that it felt was best for him.

Perhaps it is this feeling that made all of the wands that he had seen slightly different after all if they came from the same place, irregardless of the wood or the core that was used to make the wand they should at least be similar in appearance, but no, he had seen Dumbledore's wand once and there were bumps all along it and he had seen many Death Eaters wand which had a slight curve or a design on them.

Harry's own wand, his 11" Holy with a phoenix feather was rather straight and yet towards the end were his hand usually rested was an unusual grip that seemed to be part of the old piece of wood that had not been whittled down. This wand that he was creating was entirely unique it was quite straight the handle looked very much like that of the wand Harry saw Draco Malfoy using when he had dueled him in his second year.

While the shaft of the wand itself appeared flat if you were to run your fingers along it you would find that there was an almost vine like pattern that crawled its way up to the top like Hermione's, Harry's best friend, wand had. However the true thing that made this a remarkable beauty was the almost spider web like veins that seemed to run along the wand just underneath the surface of the wand they were a deep red color and gave the bone white wand a sense of indescribable beauty. These were, Harry realized the sap of the Weirwood that had been brought to the surface through some unknown use of Magic and crystallized there giving the entire wand a sense of ethereal beauty, as if it could not possibly belong in this world, in this time and place.

The wand was something that seemed out of this world, the bony white wood of the Weirwood contrasted beautifully with the spidery layer of red crystallized sap that covered the wand, Harry realized that it was thanks to this sap that the wand would work in the first place as he felt a connection from within the sap almost as if it truly was the blood of some long forgotten god, The sap would act as the core to the wand. The entire wand was a 12 and a half inches, a little longer than Harry was used to but nowhere near as big as Hagrid's rumored 14 inch wand was before it was snapped.

Harry stared at the beautiful work of art that he had somehow managed to bring forth into creation, something that Harry doubted he would ever be able to do in his lifetime, irregardless of whether it was this lifetime or the next. Harry grasped the wand that he had brought forth into the world and felt a thrum of power rush through his body, it was almost as if he were back in Diagon alley all those years ago, picking up his wand for the first time.

Harry pointed the wand away from his face and whispered " _Lumos_ " with a voice that dripped with hope begging the stick that he now held within his hands to work and in that second Harry felt a sensation start from deep within his stomach and creep down his arm and into the self made wand as the tip of the stick began to shine with a brilliant white light, for the first time in several centuries Westeros had changed, for the first time since the death of the dragons all those many years ago Magic was reborn into Westeros.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Here is another chapter, have fun.**

 **LordOfTheWind: Thank you.**

 **luccajorge21: I know, completely forgot about that while writing it on my phone, thank you.**

 **Death Wand: Yeah, of course.**

 **WriteWhenICan: Thank you.**

 **SimFlyer: Thank you, I know I myself am sick of them, Harry will gain something Valyrian steel, but it wont be for a while.**

 **Hell of Sounds: Thank you.**

 **Umbra. Venator: Thank you.**

 **Velial13: Nice, I actually didn't think of that, thanks.**

 **Douggernaut: Thank you, Yeah, I looked and sort of saw that all the reincarnation stories were the same, so I decided 'fuck it, lets do something different'.**

 **Guest: Thanks.**

 **917brat: New weapon in this chapter and yes, Harry will gain a more musical talent, very much like his father, Jon will learn as will some other but not for a long time. As for your other ideas, no not really, while Harry could pass the most basic of ideas, do remember he was cut off from muggle learning at 11 and died at 14. Harry and Jon are quite close However due to Harry's older mind he is more mature and does not always get Jon. And thank you.**

 **Uzushiogakure: Thank you, and finally someone gets it, Harry has been trained as a ranged fighter for in his past life and some of those habits are hard to shake. You are correct of course Harry is capable of doing wandless magic, however this Harry died at 14 and did not learn how to do it, its not so much as not being capable of it, its more he has no clue how to go about doing so.**

 **Thank you, I was actually thinking about the Jedi creating a lightsaber while playing SWTOR and tried to write it as such. Harry of course will create new spells as he grows older and more used to his magic, while learning also what he learned in preparation for the Tri Wizard Tournament. As for occlumency and Legilimency that's pretty much the reason I killed him early as I read the stories of crossovers of GoT and Harry Potter and in the ones where Harry is prepared or has full use of his Magic, he completely ignores things like Apparation and Legilimency because of 'Plot' reasons.**

 **SinfulKiss: Correct, In this chapter its mentioned.**

 **Ataxius: Yes he killed the Basilisk, but he himself pretty much admits that was just luck and not really skill, plus while he did kill it, if Fawkes did not show up Harry would also be dead.**

 **Ashborn2271: Harry will definitely not be the goody two shoes he is in the books as Westeros is a place that cannot allow him to be so, He will still be kind and helpful but also more guarded, growing up as the bastard son of a lord and his own death has taught him many things.**

 **Guest: Thank you.**

 **anarion87: Thanks.**

 **Pattou59: Nope, No, no way While I myself like Arya, as she is definitely my favorite female character, I think its a bit much for Harry to get together with someone he directly grew up with and watched grow up.**

 **timbarney110: Harry is the younger of the two, Jon will go to the wall, that's the main reason that I had Jon also be born instead of simply having Harry be born as Lyanna's only child as Jon is very much needed on the wall and while I could write it in another way myself I did not really wish to as Harry will not go to the Wall for a long time yet.**

 **mad thought: Thank you, Indeed, find out Harry's chosen weapon in this chapter.**

 **thunder18: Thank you.**

 **krasni: Thanks, True however Harry died at fourteen not really knowing them, he knows they exist but not how to use them.**

 **h4lfbl00dprinc3: I thought it would be better if Jon kept his skill with a blade, while Harry who has become accustomed to ranged fighting was not nearly as skilled.**

 **Guest: Yes!**

 **CushySensei: I know, but I felt it was necessary for context, by the way, you posted the same review twice.**

 **Percy Jackson7: Thanks.**

 **Assassin 12305: Thanks.**

 **Snowdove30: Thank you, that's a good Idea.**

 **Guest: Thank you.**

 **mysweetkat: Thank you.**

 **god of all: Thanks.**

 **deantna: Thanks you.**

 **thunder18: Thank you.**

 **BurningDay: Thank you, will update when I feel the need to write a chapter.**

 **fairytopian: Thank you.**

 **Guest: Thanks.**

* * *

Chapter 3: The years pass by.

 **Winterfell, The North - 292 AC**

One year had passed by after Harry had created his own wand and regained access to his most precious of abilities, Magic and not just any magic either, this magic belonged to a different time, a different world and was now the only link that Harry had to his old homeworld. He had of course hidden his wand and as Winterfell was, for him at least, pretty much the safest place to live in, he did not carry it around with him instead choosing to only do magic late at night lest someone discover him.

While magic wasn't exactly outlawed in the great kingdom of Westeros there were many that looked down upon such things and believed that it was heresy or the 'Dark Arts', and Harry had no intention of recreating the Spanish inquisition over here in Westeros thank you very much. He did not know if there were others like him out there, all the knowledge that Westeros had on Magic was that it once existed however it seemed to vanish as the last dragon gave a final roar and then fell silent. He did not know if that was true as he himself was able to do magic and when he practiced Magic out by the old Weirwood tree that had granted him the branch to create his wand, his own Magic felt stronger, as if it was being empowered by something else.

So perhaps those rumors were false and magic still existed in this large world, however if it did then the users of this magic seemed to have hidden themselves just as deeply as Harry's own kind had done on Earth when they were being hunted down. And the last thing that Harry wanted to do was to draw attention to both himself and any other forces out there that were capable of weilding Magic.

Harry right now was in the training yard swinging about this large sword, if anyone were to see him at this point in time he would die of embarrassment, his brother Jon was a prodigy with the sword, he on the other hand was not. True, he had more experience with the sword than Jon, having wielded the mighty sword of Godric Gryffindor, However to even try to compare the two was hilarious at best. The sword of Gryffindor was a beautiful masterpiece, long and sharper than nearly any blade in existence whats more is that Godric's sword was thin too, these swords that were made in Westeros could not even compare to Godric's blade.

Whats more is that while Harry did manage to kill the Basilisk with it, that was mainly due to the various enchantments upon the blade making it sharper than anything on earth and far lighter than any normal sword had the right to be. Simply put, it appeared that the swords was not for him, Harry was not down though as he had found something that he was good at, Archery.

Harry was once a Seeker back on earth, a position from the wonderful game of Quidditch which required lightning quick reflexes as well as the ability to spot an incredibly small and fast target from very far away. These attributes that Harry had built up through three years worth of playing Quidditch were immensely useful to him as he became perhaps the best archer within his family. Harry's skill with the bow was almost legendary within the great castle of Winterfell, However Harry himself knew that while it was all good if he was better with a bow than nearly any man alive, Harry would at some point have to fight foes, and while he could easily fell a man from a long distance away or use his magic to eliminate them. There was still the possibility of an enemy getting up close, as nearly every fighter in Westeros seemed to do.

That was why Harry was out here in the practice field swinging his sword around like a bloody madman, because he knew that Archery was only a viable option from a distance and while Magic could be used, Harry did not wish to have to expose that ability every time an enemy got close and at the same time Harry had no idea if he would be able to target his enemy with his wand, call out the incantation and do the wand movements all before his opponent got close enough to slice him in half with a very sharp sword.

However, no matter how hard he tried Harry would never be as good as his brothers, both his twin Jon Snow nor his older half brother Rob Stark and he knew that, it was at that point that Harry had decided. He would give up his training of the sword, he walked over to the large rack of weapons and placed the training sword back where he had got it from. Harry took a good look at the rack, knowing that close combat was inevitable here in Westeros and that his current abilities would not do. He had decided to try something different, anything that was not a sword was worth a try, the only problem with this assessment was that Westeros was quite the medieval world and there were not a lot of weapons that differed from the sword.

That was when something on the rack caught Harry's eye, it was something that almost nobody would even consider using, it was a Sword-staff, a large wooden staff with a big blade firmly attached to the end of it. Very much like a spear however the wooden part was far shorter only reaching up to the size of an adults chest while the blade attached continued the length with the tip standing just a bit longer than an adult males head. While it was part sword the movements for such a weapon were more along the lines of a staff, allowing a user to fight as if it were a staff with the added bonus of a bladed end instead of the normal wooden one.

While Harry had seen a few Sword-staffs back in his home world when he went on a field trip with school to a museum back when he was a kid, most of those were double bladed sword staffs allowing the user to fight two enemies at once, this one on the rack however only had a single blade at the top of it and on the other end was in fact capped with steel platting.

Harry felt something instinctual rise within his chest, something far more primal than anything he had ever felt before in both this life and his previous one, the feeling was urging Harry to take up the bladed staff, and so that was exactly what he did. As Harry picked up the weapon he and gave it a few swings it just felt right to him, the movements of the staff were completely different to those of the sword and while Harry was not exactly an expert with his desired weapon at the very least wielding it felt easier and better than a sword.

As Harry felt the weapon in his hands he decided to give it a few exaggerated swings and test it out a bit. Finding that he like the feel of it Harry decided to get to practicing.

* * *

 **Winterfell, The North - 295 AC**

Harry was now 12 years old or ten and two as the people of Westeros called it, He was approaching his teenager years and it truly showed as Harry unlike his past self was quite muscular and tall, no malnutrition as well as the constant physical training in order to handle weapons had formed a body that Harry could have only dreamed of back in his past life.

Currently Harry was standing in the sparring grounds with a practice staff that was modeled after his own personal bladed staff that his father had gifted him on his twelve nameday, the wood of the staff reached to about Harry's chin and was a beautiful dark black color that contrasted nicely with the castle forged steel blades that towered over both ends of his staff. Yes, unlike the staff that Harry had used before he got this one this staff had two bladed ends and allowed Harry to fend off more than one attacker at a time, as while he loved his previous staff it was quite a bit limited and would only be good in a one on one confrontation.

Currently both he and Jon were sparring in the middle of the sparring grounds, of course they were under the watchful eye of Winterfell's Master at Arms Ser Rodrik Cassel as Jon used a tourney blade, while Harry had his staff that very much like the tourney swords had had the blade dulled so that it could be used in a spar and not chop off someones head.

While Jon was very good with a sword, both of them only being 12 at this point in time it was quite hard for him to keep up with the spinning staffs two blades as they whizzed past his face as he managed to just duck under them. Seeing a chance Jon from his position on the ground that he had acquired after he had ducked thrust his sword directly forwards to Harry's unprotected stomach and for a moment believed he would win this spar as he had done with many others until he heard the whoosh of air as Harry's staff came back down to parry the blow and as he did so Harry brought the other end of his staff down upon Jon's position on the ground.

Jon had already moved by the time the blade embedded itself within the dirt as he had seen Harry's movements and known what was coming. Jon scrambled up to his feet and the dance began once more, Harry blocked this way and parried that way and at the same time brought the other end of his staff down in an attempt to win the match, however it was for naught as for all intents and purposes it seemed that the two were evenly matched.

However it needed to end one way or another and as such, it was only when Jon tried to thrust forward that Harry decided to not block it but to twist his body in order to avoid it while also bringing his staff down upon Jon's unprotected back. For what seemed like hours to Harry was in fact but mere seconds as the bladed end of the staff managed to actually hit Jon and end the spar.

For the first time in his life Harry had managed to win against his twin and it felt good, he that set of circumstances was actually pretty lucky and he doubted it would happen again, he also knew that of the two of them Jon would always be the best at close combat and that it was unlikely that he would win against his twin one more time, but that did not matter as Jon was family and it is doubtful that the two of them would fight anyway.

As they both got up and Ser Rodrik called the spar in Harry's favor, Harry was already incredibly pleased and Jon congratulated him on his win but also told him to not expect it to happen again, which was fair as Harry had not really anticipated winning this spar as in the younger generation in Winterfell the only people who he would lose against would be his twin, Jon and his older half brother Robb.

As Harry stepped back he saw the man who he was just thinking about step forward and challenge Jon to a spar, Harry decided to watch his two older brothers spar and see if he could learn anything from it.

* * *

 **Winterfell, The North - 298 AC**

The King had come to the frozen wasteland that was the north, and it was all for one person, Harry's father Ned to ask him to become his new Hand as his previous one Jon Arryn had just died of a sickness that had suddenly come on him. To Harry it sounded less like sickness and more like someone needed the Hand out of the way as it was rare, even in a world such as Westeros to be completely fine one day then suddenly become sick and die on the same day one acquired that sickness, even if such a sickness had taken Jon Arryn, there would most certainly be signs pointing to it.

That was why when Harry had heard that the King was coming to the north and more specifically to Winterfell, Harry felt a deep sickness within his chest as he feared for his father and what may happen to him if whoever had done away with the previous Hand, decided his father was also expendable, thankfully though the King while fat and engorged in wine and whores was not the dumbest person in the world. If something were to happen to his father not long after Jon Arryn then from what he knew of the King he would stop at nothing to find out the truth.

Harry was in the dinning hall, drinking and eating his food, while laughing at some of the guards and other people who had been invited into the feast while his step-mother Lady Catelyn Stark formerly Tully glared death at him. She had never liked Jon and Harry and did not try to hide it. Jon felt pained about this fact as much like Harry he had never had a mother and to lose one in Catelyn Stark deeply hurt him.

Harry however was older, having become fifteen in this life and fourteen in his previous one, with a combined experience of 29 years Harry understood greatly that it must have been incredibly difficult for the woman to have been forced into this marriage by her father and then to have been betrayed so easily by her husband, bringing back not one but two children at the same time that she gave birth to his true born son.

Harry, because he was much older than Jon had long since learned to ignore such things, besides unlike Jon, Harry did not have such a deep need for maternal love as Harry would never forget what his first mother had done for him, shielding him and giving her own life in order to stop the madman known as Lord Voldemort.

Harry was drinking quite heavily today in celebration of his second victory against his twin brother. It had been 3 years since his last victory and just like last time this time he had also won only by luck. Eventually Harry left after seeing his half sister Arya throw peas at his other half sister, the princess of the castle Sansa Stark, Harry almost could not keep his laughter in but he knew he must as Sansa would get back at him for it in one way or another.

Harry exited the grand hall that held the raucous laughter of the king as he drank so much wine that it started to drip through his beard and onto the clothes beneath as he was groping a serving maid, not that the whore-monger king seemed to mind in the least. Perhaps he truly did not care, or perhaps he was too drunk too care this no longer mattered to Harry as the doors closed behind him and the noise was drowned out by the clash of steel as Harry walked out of the castle and was greeted by the view of Jon and the imp, Tyrion Lannister were talking.

Harry had just come out at the right moment to catch the tail end of their conversation.

"Let me give you some advice bastard, never forget what you are, the rest of the world will not" Tyrion said "wear it like armor and it can never be used to hurt you."

"What the hell do you know about being a bastard?" Jon questioned angrily.

"All dwarves are bastards in their fathers eyes" He replied solemnly before taking a swig from his wineskin and walking away.

Harry being both very drunk and not really wanting to deal Jon's angst at this particular moment, walked back inside the castle and headed to his room, where he entered through the door and threw himself on his bed as an incredible amount of fatigue set in and he became incredibly tired. That coupled with the fact that he was very drunk meant that Harry was out like a light the moment his head hit his pillow.

It was past midnight when Harry suddenly woke up, he felt an intense throbbing in his head and felt a desperate need to alleviate his pain, he got up from his bed groaning in pain as he did so, opening his eyes He saw that everything was blurry. Almost as if he was back in his old life and needed his glasses in order to see, something he was quite glad that this life did not need as he knew that the blurriness was simply because he was still drunk.

Harry left his bed and stumbled around his room looking for something, anything that would rid him of his pain, it was then that Harry felt some sort of pull towards a location, if Harry were sober he would be incredibly suspicious of such a pull. However alcohol and pain had impeded his judgement and as such he walked toward the source of that pull. As he walked towards it, Harry tripped over something and flew directly into whatever was calling him, it was warm, oh so lovely and warm and whatever it was it seems to heal his pain and as that passed the drowsiness and tiredness that the pain was keeping held back suddenly collapsed onto him and Harry fell asleep right then and there.

Completely unaware of the warm and tender flames that licked his body, burning his clothes while leaving him unharmed.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Another chapter for all you folks.**

 **I am unsure of whether I have mentioned this before or not, however when reading this story, or any others that I plan to write do not expect a regular update, my muse comes and goes I may go on for months without writing a chapter, this is not because I have abandoned the story as that is one thing I will never do, However I am someone who reads Fanfiction a lot and so ideas come and go quite quickly.**

 **This is also the reason for the short chapters as I am always torn between waiting for inspiration to hit me or to cave in and post this chapter so that you, the people that I continue to write this for are happy.**

 **Anyway, Thanks for reading.**

* * *

Chapter 4: The Truth.

 **Winterfell ( Specifically Harry's room ), The North - 298 AC**

Harry's head felt as if a giant had been continuously stepping on it again and again just for its own sick amusement, he managed to sit up with a low throaty groan that protested against the movements of his body. At the very least Harry was warm, in fact he had never been warmer which was odd due to the fact that the North was always so bloody cold that if one were not careful, they could easily succumb to the harsh frozen wasteland. It was only when Harry opened his eyes groggily and wiped away the remaining sleep in his eyes that he realized that not only was he very warm but he was also completely naked, a fact that contradicted his current state of warmth. True perhaps if he were in the Summer Isles then if he slept naked he would still be warm, but this was the very heart of the North, it didn't get much colder than this unless you were brave enough to go past the wall.

It was at that point that Harry noticed the second odd thing, it was obvious that he was naked, he did not remember taking his clothes off but he had been very drunk and he could not even remember most of the night. But what Harry had noticed was something that seemed to be logically impossible, or at least it was without magic and seeing how he had cleverly hidden his wand under a loose stone directly under his bed so that his family did not find out about his magic, it was obvious that this was done with no magic needed. For Harry was currently sitting naked in his fireplace with the fire still raging on and He was not being burnt.

This was impossible, he thought as he felt the flames lick his naked body with not much more than a nice warmth that encompassed his body. That is when he felt it, there was something in him. In his very blood that sang out to the fire, calling out to the eternal warmth of the flames, something deep inside of Harry that felt purely magical was crying out as for the first time in Harry's life it was satisfied.

Harry's mind could not properly comprehend this situation that he was in and so in his panic he scurried out of the fireplace, he felt the cold air of the north rush towards his naked unprotected body as the warmth of the fire left and yet for the first time in his life, Harry did not feel cold, in fact he still felt quite warm almost as if he could walk out as he was now into the eternal snow filled lands of the North and still feel warm.

Harry wishing to test something walked towards his bed and then underneath it as he felt for the loose stone that hid his wand, removing the stone and grabbing his wand in his left hand he then did something incredibly stupid that he knew that if she knew Hermione would be screaming at him, as he pointed his wand to his other hand and then incanted the spell.

"Incendio"

And as the bright orange flames of his arcane spell grew slowly from his wand and then leapt into his very hands, a spell that was created fire hot enough it could melt flesh and yet here Harry was somehow without the use of his magic holding flame within his very hand. He knew that it should not be possible, an ordinary fire he could understand as perhaps somehow Harry had stumbled into his fireplace after drinking so much and his mind recognizing the danger somehow cast the flame freezing charm accidentally in order to protect himself. However these flames were different, Harry was awake now and he knew for a fact that he had not unconsciously cast the flame freezing charm and instead somehow his hand that was covered in arcane flames was safe and that this protection seemed to come from his very blood.

Harry dispelled the fire and quickly got dressed as he sought out the only thing that he could think of that would give him the answers to the questions he could think of, The Library where Maester Luwin resided.

* * *

The Stark library was actually quite small, this made a lot of sense due to the fact that books were very rare as they had to be written by hand as there existed no such thing as a printing press in Westeros, and as such all books were rare and expensive and not a lot of copies of any books were made. As such it was in fact rather easy to find what he was looking for as Harry scoured what little books existed in Winterfell and found a book that mentioned the Targaryen Family and the unique gift with fire that their family possessed due to the Dragons blood that flowed through their veins.

Somehow the same blood that caused the current king Robert to rebel against the crown flowed through his veins, Harry was of course aware of the great hatred that the king had for the Targaryen family going so far as to allow the murder of two children and the rape and slaughter of their mother with no punishment handed out to those who had committed great crimes. However despite this, there was only one thing on his mind, how on earth could the blood of this ancient family be flowing through his veins.

That the he had the blood of the Targaryens meant either one of two things, either his mother was a Targaryen or his father, the honorable Lord Ned Stark had lied to the world and he was in fact not his son. Of the two options the second seemed far more likely due to the only Targaryen women who were alive during the time of his birth were Queen Rhaelle and the Princess Rhaenys. However for either to have happened it would mean that Lord Ned Stark had been in close proximity to the Queen as the Princess was far too young, however with the war going on it would be highly unlikely that the Kingsguard would have allowed a traitor Lord so close to the Queen.

And while it was possible that he was the son of Queen Rhaelle and some random Lord who had remained loyal to her and the king which was in fact quite likely as it was quite well known that the Queen had hated the king and would do anything that would be seen as resistance to him, Harry knew that at the time of his birth by referencing his Age that the Queen was pregnant, and out of Westeros which ruled out her as a candidate.

The second option however had even worse implications as of the Targaryen men who were alive there were a total of three, The King Aerys, his son Rhaegar or Little Prince Aegon who was immediately discarded due to his young age leaving only two people left, meaning that he was either the Son of Aerys or Rhaegar. Discarding for the moment the horrible betrayal that he felt as the man who he had thought was his father, whom he had grown up calling father was in fact not.

Harry then thought on the two men who had the best claim on the Dragon blood that was flowing through his veins, Aerys the Mad was called as such for a very good reason and it was for that exact reason that Harry could discount him as his Father as the man was incredibly paranoid and would only ever sleep with his Sister-wife Rhaelle for fear of attempted assassination while he slept. And seeing as Rhaelle had been pregnant it was possible, however it had been reported that Queen Rhaelle had in fact died giving birth to a daughter named Daenarys out at sea far away from Westeros. Which only left one horrifying possibility, That he was the Son of Rhaegar and Lyanna Stark.

This was the only possibility left as while he could be the son of Elia Martel, he looked nothing like the Dornish woman as well as the fact that if Elia had given birth to him, he should have died along with her, it would also explain why his fath- No, his uncle had kept him, proclaiming him as his own base born son as a way to protect the only child of his sister.

It was at that moment that Harrys anger had abated, true he was still angry at the Lord of Winterfell for not telling him, however he knew that if he had not taken him in he would be dead, he was a Targaryen and not just any Targaryen either but one born of the man Robert hated the most and the woman that he loved the most. He Harry was a product of the rape that his father committed, if the king ever found out, Harry knew that his death would not be Swift and would be stretched over the years.

It was then that Harry decided to confront his uncle over his knowledge of this and decide what to do with his life, despite coming from the royal line, Harry owed his house nothing and in fact would rather not get involved at all as the crimes his father had committed to his mother absolved him of any debt towards him.

However he thought on his family, both those that lived here in Winterfell and those across the Narrow sea, the last of his father's family innocent and free of his family's cruelty and madness, were they alright? He knew not. Despite his wish to abandon his house and all ties he had with it they were one he did not wish to sever.

Furthermore his family here in Winterfell, his uncle and aunt and his cousins who he had believed to be brothers, his own true brother Jon, was he truly his twin or was that another lie that his uncle had told the world in order to protect his sisters legacy, each of these were questions that he needed the answers to and the only way to get them was to ask his uncle and confront him with what he knew.

And so it was that Harry stepped out of the meager Stark library with a new purpose in his step, adamant to find his uncle and have him properly explain the truth about him.

* * *

 **AN: By the way, yes I do know that Rhaegar did not rape Lyanna, however Harry does not know that and so it was explained as with no mention of any Meta knowledge.**

 **Reviews:**

 **Greyfox158: Thank you.**

 **Gilles: Don't worry I am.**

 **El Mano: Thanks, and here it is.**

 **God of all: Nice name, and thanks.**

 **Yuiop: Thanks.**

 **Guest: Thanks.**

 **WinterPacific27: Sorry can't read Spanish, but I do recognise a few words, Thanks.**

 **Guest: Sadly no, while Harry knows how to cast it he himself will not be there until it is too late, the direwolves have indeed been brought home, I had actually and that will be in a flashback next chapter.**

 **Harry will become an Animation but it won't be a Direwolf.**

 **Spiralling Fan 3128: Thanks, I know however my inspiration comes and goes sporadically and as such I tend to write shorter chapters.**

 **Belladu57: Thank you.**

 **Padfootette: Thanks.**

 **Tsumujikaze Yumi: Thanks.**

 **Blaze1992: They will but it will be more off screen than anything else.**

 **DukeSomerset: Thanks and so do I.**

 **Davycrockett100: Thank you.**

 **Guest: Thanks, Part of his Dragon blood heritage written above.**

 **Lawbringer: Thank you.**

 **BURN3: Thanks.**

 **Poseidon3000: Thanks.**

 **VivianeDiPulci: Thanks, he's off to see Ned about it now.**

 **Sanbeegoldiewhitey: Lol, true but then this is Fanfiction, since when has realism truly mattered.**

 **Charles Caesar: Thank you**

 **Simflyer: The unburnt is a title he won't have, while it is true flames do not hurt him, Harry does not wish to spread this information out. Perhaps he will, perhaps he will not, you will just have to wait and read on.**

 **Guest: Thank you.**

 **RinnePotter726: Thanks, noted and fixed was not really thinking about that as I wrote it.**

 **TimBarney110: Lol, nice idea, trying to stick to what I believe Harry would really do so no Harem and where did Nyssa come from lol.**

 **Death Wand: it was indeed his Targaryen Heritage, specifically his Dragon blood calling out to the fire.**

 **Bella-swan11: Indeed, though judging by both Harry and Jon's personalities they do not want the throne and have no idea of what I'd coming, yet.**

 **Guest: Thanks.**

 **Kenka: No trouble, though Harry is now aware of his heritage.**

 **Uzushiogakure: Ahh, hello again always nice to reply to one of your reviews.**

 **Thank you, you are correct as Harry grows older and starts experimenting with things he has seen at Hogwarts but not taught due to his young age he will start to try casting silently and wandlessly however it will be much tougher for him as he has no formal instructor to teach him how to do it.**

 **To be honest not sure how the meeting with Dany should go down as while she is his family and it is not something the original Harry would think of, I am running out of people to pair Harry with who aren't trying to kill him, wish to use him or people he had grown up with.**

 **Thanks.**

 **917brat: His Fireplace and all answered in this chapter.**

 **Alec-Potter: Thanks, was unsure of when he should have learned it, but I thought that this was best as it shapes his actions in the future chapters.**

 **Brown5o: Nope sorry.**

 **Help I Have no Social Life: me neither buddy, and you take that back, we kiwis are so much better than you Aussies, this is perfectly demonstrated in our rugby matches. And thanks.**

 **BioHazard82: Thank you.**

 **Percy Jackson7: Thank you.**

 **ImaginativeFury: my, you certainly live up to your name, Thanks for reading.**

 **Necromancy94: Sorry but no.**

 **Jslee102: Think Darth Maul but with a steel weapon rather than a lightsaber. Thanks.**

 **Valiryo: Yes I will admit it wasn't my first choice as well but I was kind of sick of the whole Harry is somehow the greatest swordsman in Westeros thing and decided to try something new.**

 **H4lfbl00dprince: Thanks.**

 **Guest: Mwuhahahahaha.**

 **Guest: No idea about a pairing right now.**

 **Ficreader2011: While I love the idea it is my belief that Harry is too humble and kind to think that way thus he wont.**

 **Alligator9: Thanks, in a flashback next chapter.**

 **Nysk: Indeed it does.**

 **AvalonRivers: Not a Direwolf, no idea about a Dragon.**

 **Guest: Wow, thanks for the image of Harry with a very very old lady, in all seriousness though it will be very interesting to see their meeting.**

 **Guest: He is indeed very unhappy about it. I actually did not notice the parallels between Rhaegar and Voldie thanks for mentioning that.**

 **Anarion87: Thank you.**

 **Roshane: Indeed.**

 **Mysweetkat: Thank you and we will see.**


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